From Mr Darcy's point of view
by WritingImagination
Summary: From the book "Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen, selected moments from Mr Darcy's POV. The Netherfield Ball, Hunsford Parsonage and Rosings Park, the proposal, writing the letter, reflection, Wickham again, and Lady Catherine's visit.


**Disclaimer:** Jane Austen's books have no copyright, they belong to the public domain. I do not own "Pride and Prejudice", I do not own any of the characters nor the plot. The image used is free to use (including for commercial use) and comes from VictorianLady on Pixabay.

 **Netherfield Ball**

 _Oh. There she arrives, holding her sister's hand._ Mr Darcy steeled himself. He had to make sure that no sign of admiration escaped him. He had managed to do it quite well the last Saturday she was at Netherfield – he had scarcely spoken ten words to her that day. Now, he moved to the ballroom, determined to ignore her.

He was standing next to some officers and was quite glad to see that Wickham had indeed not dared come. Bingley, who had felt slightly uneasy at the idea of excluding one particular officer from the general invitation but was willing to oblige Darcy nonetheless, had been most pleased to inform him that Mr. Wickham would be in London that day and that there was therefore no need to exclude him from the invitation, as that would be quite an unpleasant process.

Bingley was walking through the ballroom with a Miss Bennett on each arm, the two eldest. _Oh._ His heart skipped a beat, he had never seen Elizabeth look so beautiful as she did this evening. His eyes were glued to her face. She seemed to be looking around for someone – would he dare hope that she was looking for him? Then, she looked in his direction, recognition flitted on her features and her lips slowly turned into a delighted smile. His heart positively stopped before starting up again at a crescendo. And then a red coat who had been standing in front of him walked towards Elizabeth and it became clear that it was him – Darcy thought his name was Denny – that Elizabeth was smiling at. Darcy could feel bitter disappointment; it tasted particularly sour in his mouth.

Bingley and Jane Bennett had now left Elizabeth with the redcoat, they were standing a few feet away. Whatever the redcoat had just told Elizabeth, she looked bitterly disappointed too. _Oh, she was biting her bottom lip._ And then the redcoat turned and motioned his head in Darcy's direction. Where they talking about him? Elizabeth's eyes met his and he wasn't sure he fully understood the emotion in them – it was clear that some understanding had just dawned on her and she seemed displeased with him though. He moved towards them, feeling oddly uncomfortable. He made a few polite inquiries; she replied curtly and then turned away to engage Mr Bingley in conversation.

But what the hell could the redcoat have been telling her? A wild thought entered his mind, but he dismissed it almost immediately. Denny had been the redcoat standing next to Wickham, and probably the one introducing them to the Bennett daughters, when Bingley and himself had come across them in Meryton. Could Denny have been telling Elizabeth about Wickham's absence? Was _he_ the one she had been looking for around the ballroom? Was _he_ the one she had dressed for so particularly beautifully tonight? And was he, Fitzwilliam Darcy, being blamed for Wickham's absence and Elizabeth's disappointment? Darcy shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts. Surely Elizabeth would be too perceptive to fall for Wickham's charms. Although... Darcy's own father had never seen through him, and Georgiana had... Stop. Those thoughts would never do. Besides, Georgiana had been quite young and naïve, while Darcy's father may have been blinded by his affection for his steward, Wickham's father.

From further away, Darcy could observe that Elizabeth was now talking with Charlotte Lucas. Who was that clergyman approaching them? Oh my, Elizabeth was dancing with that sorry excuse for a man. He looked quite pompous and lecherous, gazing at Elizabeth with a smile that made Darcy cringe. He was also a terrible dancer and it was clear Elizabeth's patience was running thin. Darcy wasn't sure whether to be amused or not, but he couldn't keep a small grin off his face when he saw the clergyman apologising profusely while Elizabeth looked very stern. Elizabeth caught his eye and looked quite angry before determinedly turning her head in another direction. Surely she didn't think he had been laughing at her?

Darcy hovered nearby but it seemed that Elizabeth had agreed to a second dance with the clergyman. And then, when Darcy walked determinedly towards her, a redcoat was faster and reached her first, asking for and obtaining the next dance. Damn. But he shouldn't be dancing with her anyway, should he? He didn't want to build her hopes up. He would never ask for her hand in marriage and should therefore not let any sign of admiration escape him. But would one dance build her expectations? Darcy feared that it might – now he really wished he had dance more in the previous balls. For he had never danced with anyone but Bingley's sisters. If people suddenly saw him stand up with a woman who was neither Mrs Hurst nor Miss Bingley, wouldn't they assume that he held that particular woman in high regard? And they'd be right.

She was talking to her friend Miss Lucas again. Darcy couldn't resist the impulse, and again, made his way determinedly and very quickly to her. He only caught the word "implacable!" before Miss Lucas interrupted Elizabeth by hissing "Lizzy!". "What?" whispered Elizabeth before noticing him and slowly turning to face him. He bowed and the two young ladies replied in kind. He asked for the next dance. Elizabeth seemed quite taken aback and stuttered a little before agreeing. He wasn't sure if he ought to assume that her nervousness was due to any regard for him though, it seemed to be more due to surprise than anything else. He'd been right – anyone would be surprised if he requested a dance from someone outside his own party. Even Elizabeth, who Darcy had thought knew, or at least had an inkling, of his regard for her.

The nice part about the dance was being able to hold her hand. The bad part was they argued about Wickham. That fiend always seemed to cause Darcy particular trouble. Not content with breaking Georgiana's heart, was he now trying to hurt Darcy further by spreading lies about him and turning Elizabeth against him?

 _Oh no!_ Mary Bennett was at the piano and her performance was dreadful. Darcy grimaced.

He moved away, conscious of Elizabeth looking at him as he passed her on his way to Bingley's sisters. And now the dogs outside were howling because Mary Bennett's singing was truly dreadful. Mr Bennett seemed embarrassed by his middle daughter's performance but Mrs Bennett didn't seem fazed. How on earth could Mrs Bennett not feel ashamed right now? Darcy would never understand the depth of that woman's silliness and lack of propriety. He shuddered at the thought that she was Elizabeth's mother. It was quite remarkable that the two eldest Bennett daughters had ended up the way they were considering their mother. Whoever married them, though, would have to put up with Mrs Bennett. Although perhaps, Elizabeth was worth such a sacrifice?

He was going to die right now. Mary-who-makes-the-dogs-howl-in-pain was starting another song. If only the ground would swallow him up right now. Or even better – if only the ground would swallow up that blasted girl and the piano along with her while they were at it. Thank goodness Mr Bennett was interrupted her now. Darcy felt like crying in relief and kissing the man. Although, his interruption was also very uncomfortable to watch. Someone had to do it, of course, but whoever did it would also appear to lack propriety. Mr Bennett would have been better off telling his daughter honestly in private that she was a terrible performer rather than attempt this very public interruption, where he attributed his interruption to a wish that the other young ladies would have a chance to exhibit. At least all of this was a very good way of reminding Darcy why he should distance himself from Miss Elizabeth and why he should help his friend distance himself from Miss Jane.

Mrs Bennett was now detailing her mercenary aims for her daughter Jane with Bingley without shame. And what had she just said? Mr Collins had taken a fancy to Elizabeth and he was going to propose? Darcy felt jealousy and envy course through his veins – who was that Mr Collins and did Elizabeth reciprocate his fancy? Was it Mr Collins or Mr Wickham she had searched the ballroom for? Or himself?

And now that ridiculous clergyman was bowing in front of him, without having been introduced! Darcy was barely civil to those who had been introduced to him, let alone those who hadn't been! Oh – and it turned out the ridiculous clergyman's name was Mr Collins. His aunt's clergyman had come to Hertfordshire eight days ago and was now trying to claim Elizabeth Bennet's hand in marriage?! The world didn't make any sense to him right now. At least, he could be assured that Elizabeth would not welcome Mr Collins' proposal, if her attitude to dancing with him was anything to go by. Darcy just hoped that the Bennett parents wouldn't force Elizabeth to accept the offer. The idea was unacceptable. That anyone as intelligent and witty as Elizabeth should be forced to marry that... that ridiculous, pompous, stupid man! And then... Elizabeth would be the wife of his aunt's clergyman and she would reside at Hunsford parsonage with... The odious idea disgusted him so much that he had to take a few breaths to calm himself. Elizabeth would never accept his man. She had too much self-respect for that, even if her family might soon be in a ... precarious, dire financial position. Could her love for her family, including her sister Jane, induce her to accept? But perhaps if Jane did marry Bingley, there would be no need for that?

Darcy shook himself – it would be extremely selfish of him to hope for Bingley's association with the ridiculous family (with two noteworthy exceptions) just in order to guarantee that Elizabeth didn't have to consent to any offer due to financial pressures. Darcy meant what he had said at Netherfield – the Bennett daughters had very little chances of marrying well – but he meant it in terms of money, social standing and consequence in the world. Surely it was possible for the elder two Bennett daughters to marry men, who though not of consequence in the world, would be intelligent and have some sense. If Darcy had been of little social standing and if the Bennetts were less ridiculous, he would have considered himself extremely lucky to be Elizabeth's husband but as things were... Perhaps it would be better for Elizabeth to marry someone who was forced to travel – he couldn't supress a thought about Wickham and the militia. His thoughts were getting more and more unpleasant by the minute and it reflected itself on a very stern and grave expression on his face. The militia, and debt-laden Wickham especially, were too poor to be husbands for the Bennett daughters – Mrs Bennett's mercenary aims wouldn't allow it and Darcy was suddenly and unexpectedly once glad for Mrs Bennett's mercenary aims.

 **Hunsford Parsonage and Rosings Park**

That ridiculous clergyman again! Why on earth did Lady Catherine choose him for the parsonage? Was she really that desperate for empty flatteries? That man was practically crawling at her feet.

"...my father-in-law Sir William Lucas has now departed but my sister-in-law Miss Maria Lucas and my cousin Miss Elizabeth Bennett remain at Hunsford..."

Darcy's ears perked up. Miss Elizabeth Bennett was at Hunsford? He had spent months trying to forget her and he thought that he had at least succeeded in distancing himself from her – but apparently not. His reaction to knowing she was here almost appalled him. He had not seen her in months and yet the only mention of her name and knowing she was here had put him in quite a frenzy.

It didn't take long for him to convince his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, to accompany him to call on the ladies at Hunsford Parsonage. Upon seeing her again, he knew it was a lost cause. He might as well drop all pretence and stop hiding his admiration. He had thoroughly misled himself if he thought leaving Hertfordshire would solve the problem. The past few months had been a misery and his joy on seeing her again was almost painful.

 **The proposal**

He had been wounding for months and now he felt a serene peace at knowing he had given up the fight. He would marry her. In the past few weeks, he had no longer tried to conceal his admiration. They had resumed their playful flirting, though he was even less guarded now than he had been during their banter at Netherfield. He could see that Colonel Fitzwilliam fancied Elizabeth and thus he was very keen to make his intentions clear to his cousin. But it seemed Colonel Fitzwilliam wouldn't take the hint. Regardless – the colonel had to marry where there was fortune, and Elizabeth Bennet had none. Hardly a serious rival. Darcy and Elizabeth walked together in the park and they talked of marriage and distance to the family, of marital felicity, of coming back to visit Rosings and understanding the layout of the house, ... Darcy kept putting off the date that he and his cousin would leave Kent. He needed a bit of time.

And so, finally, he proposed. He tried to read the emotions on her face as he did. She blushed both at the beginning and at the end of his speech, but as he declared himself, he had trouble identifying her emotions. Why wasn't she smiling? Was her embarrassment so great that she could only blush?

 _...however unequally they may be returned..._

Darcy's brain took a long time to process that sentence. She didn't love him back at all or she didn't love him back as strongly as he loved her?

 _... I hope will be of short duration..._

She hoped that his wounding would be of short duration? She thought he could quickly overcome his affection and regard for her?! She thought that his tender feelings could be overcome by his rational mind recognising the inferiority of her circumstances? How could she not realise that the reason he was proposing was precisely because his rational mind had not been able to overcome his feelings for her?

He leaned against the mantelpiece for support as he felt understanding finally dawn on him. _She was rejecting him_. It felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had just been dropped on his head. His knees buckled slightly. He thought he had prepared for all eventualities, but he hadn't even considered that she might reject him. As he had walked into the parsonage, he had happily imaged walking out betrothed and announcing his engagement. Now, he was surprised and angry, very distressed and willing the gears in his brain to work out what had gone wrong.

He was so angry not just at her rejection, but her _very rude_ rejection. And when he calmed himself enough to speak, he told her what he thought of her reply and asked for the reason for her refusal – although he tried very heard to make it seem as if he did not care much for her reasons for refusing him. But he needed to know. He didn't understand. Women of a higher social standing, women the likes of Caroline Bingley, would have accepted without hesitating for even a second. She had flirted with him, bewitched him, she had encouraged his affections, she had led him on – hadn't she? They had talked about marriage and marital bliss together, for goodness sakes! He was of a high social standing, he had money, he was powerful, a man of real consequence in the world, he was handsome, he was intelligent, he avoided ridicule, he was a gentleman... and she was a country girl with no fortune, from the _Bennett_ family. He wanted to sneer but the pain was too great. His pride had taken a very deep blow.

She clearly felt insulted and disgusted by his proposal, and she obviously disliked him. He had problems to grasp that reality – he couldn't fathom how this was possible.

Oh, she was blaming him for separating Bingley from her sister? Was she serious? Who would not object to having Mrs Bennett as a mother-in-law? And those younger girls – full of silliness and a complete lack of propriety – as sisters-in-law? He pointed out to her that he had been kinder towards Bingley than towards himself – he knew it was a cruel thing to say but right now, he wanted to hurt her as much as she was hurting him.

And now, Wickham again! Darcy's anger was now mingled with a fierce jealousy and he thought he might strangle the man the next time he saw him – for he always seemed to cross his path somehow – why was it so impossible to shake him off? To get rid of him permanently? He had a nagging feeling that Wickham would keep coming back to torment him throughout his life. Darcy wanted to defend himself against Miss Bennett's bitter accusations but he could not. Through his anger, hurt, wounded pride, and jealousy, he knew not what should or should not be disclosed. He couldn't expose Georgiana in a moment of such emotional chaos and weakness.

So, finally, the truth. What she really thought of him. She clearly hated him. Whatever tales Wickham had told her, it seemed to have convinced her that he was some kind of monster.

He still had a little hope though – he had merely wounded her pride with his honesty. He told her so.

 _...had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner..._

He felt like he was going to die of shame right now. Not only had he been condemned to rejection before he had even started proposing, but she thought his proposal had been so un-gentleman-like that it didn't even warrant a civil reply and she couldn't even bring herself to care about the pain she was causing him in refusing.

 _You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it._

He felt nauseous. He couldn't believe his ears and he was feeling profoundly humiliated. How could his hand, the hand of a man so important, not even be tempting? Even if he had grovelled at her feet swearing eternal love, she wouldn't even have been tempted...

 _I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry._

He was transfixed. He needed this to stop! Stop! Right now! It was torture! She had hated him for so long! She despised him! She would rather marry the ridiculous Mr Collins, or wicked Wickham, or fortuneless Colonel Fitzwilliam, anyone else instead of him! He needed to get out of this room right now. He would still throw a cruel jab at her before finishing off civilly to show her how civility was done.

 _... have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been..._

Liar. Liar. Liar. Not that she cared anyway whether or not he withdrew his affections and became ashamed of them or not. And it was as if he was doing exactly what she had supposed – overcoming his feelings very quickly after her refusal. He'd make her believe that indeed, he had found little difficulty in overcoming those feelings. He was so angry as he hastened out of the room.

The tumult in his mind was great as he stalked back angrily towards Rosings. Her words kept echoing around his head, driving him nearly insane.

 _...your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others..._

He wanted to die. He needed to vent out his anger somehow.

 **Writing the letter**

He had tried to sleep, hoping that it would calm him done enough and resolving to write a letter to her to defend himself against her accusations. He _needed_ to show her she had been wrong. He needed her to _regret_ rejecting him.

He didn't sleep a wink that night. He kept replaying last night's events in his mind. And he thought about what he would write in the letter. He would need to mention Wickham's ... dealings with Georgiana. It was the only way.

 _...those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last night so disgusting to you..._

He stopped writing and sunk his head into his hands. He couldn't do it. Could he? He had to. He looked up after a while and resumed writing. He was calm, wasn't he? She'd read the letter and think better of him, and she'd regret rejecting him.

By the time he got to the end of the letter, he felt quite relieved that he had explained his motives thoroughly regarding Bingley and the eldest Miss Bennett, and that he defended himself against whatever lies Wickham had been telling. Some weight was lifted from his shoulders. She'd see he wasn't the monster she had considered him to be. Perhaps he would even dare hope that she would forgive his interference regarding Bingley. After Elizabeth had assured him of Jane's feelings, perhaps he ought to go see for himself and then... well, it would be most uncomfortable, but if Jane Bennett still felt regard for Bingley, he would confess his interference to Bingley. He wasn't sure how his friend would react – especially about hiding from him that Jane had been in London for months. That really had been a dreadful mistake, and he was ashamed to think about it. He'd been just as manipulative and conniving as Bingley's sisters.

 **Reflection**

She'd been right though – hadn't she? It hurt terribly to admit it, it almost blocked his breath and he felt he would choke. She admired people like Bingley, who were friendly, modest, open and talkative. She despised people who were arrogant, haughty, stern and so quiet as to be uncivil. He had been full of pride, vanity, conceit – in fact, he had even expected her to welcome his proposal, when looking back now... what had he done to deserve an acceptance? Fortune and civility might be enough to convince Caroline Bingley, but his behaviour towards Elizabeth Bennet had been most reprehensible – abhorrent really. He thought his honesty at his struggles would show her how strong his affection for her was, how deep he was wounding, but really all it had shown was how he despised her family and considered her of an inferior social standing.

She could have received a proposal from a perfectly amiable man of the same social standing, who would only have spoken of his tender feelings and she would probably have felt gratified and might have accepted. But instead, she received a proposal from a man of a higher social standing, whom she hated, who insulted her family and belittled her while assuming she would jump for joy at the chance of spending the rest of her life with him. Looking back, he couldn't be surprised at her refusal. Of course, he hadn't been a gentleman at all. His behaviour had been appalling. A gentleman hoping to be accepted would have spoken of his respect and regard for her and surely wouldn't have taken the opportunity to shame her family or her social standing – what good could that do? It was irrelevant to the marriage proposal. They both knew she had a ridiculous family and they both knew that she was of a lower social standing.

If anyone was proposing, it was obvious that they _wanted_ the connection – and therefore had no right to reproach the lady anything. He had wanted the connection despite the mercenary Mrs Bennett, Mary-the-awful-voice, the indolent Mr Bennett, the silliest girls in all of England and the ridiculous cousin. She hadn't wanted his good opinion – as she told him yesterday – and yet she had been forced to endure a speech offending and insulting her.

Furthermore, Darcy realised that not only was criticism of her family futile and irrelevant, but it was also hypocritical. His aunt Lady Catherine De Bourgh was ridiculous as well and Elizabeth had had to endure her company more often and on a more personal basis than he had had to endure Mrs Bennett's company. Sometimes she had said things so thoroughly exposing her ill-breeding that Darcy had been quite ashamed. And looking at the "respectable" marriage that the former Louisa Bingley had made, to a so-called "fashionable" man... Mr Hurst was a perfect example of how social standing and propriety didn't always go hand in hand.

He wanted to crawl somewhere and disappear but it would not do. First, he would have to stop drowning his sorrows in alcohol. He had never done it before and he had never thought he'd end up there, but this was very clearly where he had ended up. He lowered the glass and pushed it away from him. He needed to get a grip on himself. If not for his sake, at least for Georgiana's. She was sixteen, fragile and naïve, and she loved him dearly and needed him. Second, he'd need to review his behaviour and manners. Elizabeth Bennet had been right, and he intended to change accordingly. Perhaps he also ought to review his behaviour towards his sister... although he knew he loved her dearly, he had to admit that his behaviour towards her was sometimes a bit condescending.

He remained occupied by morose thoughts. Had he really been any different from Mr Collins? He had heard Mrs Bennett lamenting over Elizabeth rejecting Mr Collins. Mr Collins and himself had both been disliked by Elizabeth and yet both had gone to her sure of their reception. The thought of them being alike was distressing.

 **Wickham again**

That blasted man again! He had thought some progress had been made, he had been considering that she was starting to respect him, he had dared hope that she would soon return his feelings – and now she was in tears because her youngest sister had run off with Wickham. She was about to leave Derbyshire and he didn't even know if he would ever see her again, let alone have another opportunity to propose again. He wasn't even sure he ought to risk proposing again – perhaps her feelings hadn't changed enough and another proposal would only make her uncomfortable. Even setting aside the mortification for him of a second refusal, he wasn't the type of person to inconvenience others who had made their feelings abundantly clear. She had refused and he needed to let it go. They were civil now, perhaps they could even be friends. She seemed willing to continue her acquaintance with his sister and with himself.

But now his thoughts were very much occupied with the present moment. He had to ease her distress and protect her reputation. If the Bennett sisters were tarnished by association with Lydia, their chances of making a good marriage were considerably reduced (not that they'd ever been great considering their lack of fortune). He couldn't propose to her now for several reasons. She was distressed so the timing would be awful. She might accept for the wrong reasons – out of desperation. It would be most unfair to propose now. He needed her to accept only for the right reasons: namely returning his regard and affections.

Of all the girls Wickham could have run away with, why did he have to take Lydia Bennett! It was a selfish thought, he realised. He couldn't help wonder if the man had guessed his feelings for Elizabeth and meant to ruin his chances. But it couldn't be. It seems luck was simply against him. And really, who was he to blame Lydia Bennett or any other young lady Wickham might have promised elopement to, when his own sister had been quite enraptured by Wickham's charms? He really ought to have disclosed earlier what he knew about Wickham's character. But it was very difficult to do so and to be believed (Wickham was very well-liked) without mentioning Georgiana.

He couldn't let Elizabeth find out about his interference with Lydia and Wickham. His help did not entitle him to anything and he feared that she would assume he had helped in expectance of receiving her hand in return. He would do this to protect young ladies from Wickham and to make Elizabeth happy, but she must never find out.

 **Lady Catherine's visit**

His aunt was announced and she strode into the room, looking fierce and angry. Darcy was very surprised – he had not at all expected to see her in London.

His aunt skipped all the pleasantries and immediately said, "My nephew, I am just returned from a most distressing visit in Hertfordshire."

Darcy's eyebrows rose and his interest was piqued.

"I went to Longbourn to speak with that... that insolent, headstrong girl Elizabeth Bennett. I knew the rumours of an engagement between you two to be a scandalous falsehood and I wouldn't do you, my dear nephew, the dishonour, but I wanted to hear her say it."

Darcy paled a little at the thought of what Elizabeth had had to endure from his aunt. In many ways, Lady Catherine was worse than Mrs Bennett.

"And... what did she say?" Darcy strived for an unaffected tone, he feared that if his aunt guessed his feelings, she would be most reluctant to detail the conversation that had taken place.

"She was most obstinate and would not relent. I pointed out to her the disgrace of such an alliance, her inferior birth, how honour forbade it – but she dismissed it all! I could not have expected much better from someone like her, but she was most rude. She said that your wife must have extraordinary sources of happiness to make the censure bearable – no doubt she was hinting at the wealth associated with the alliance. She is most mercenary."

Darcy was torn between feeling incredibly ashamed for all the his aunt had said to Elizabeth, and hope that she had resisted Lady Catherine's intimidation attempts because she was not irrevocably decided against him. Now, she didn't seem to think that being his wife would be so unpleasant after all.

"Of course, she ended up confirming that she was not engaged to you. I was not surprised to hear that, I respect you too much and know enough about your sense and reason to know you would never propose to a woman of such inferior birth, when you are destined for Anne."

Darcy was very tempted to interrupt Lady Catherine with a scathing remark but he bit his tongue, wanting her to continue. Instead he said, trying to sound nonchalant, "So why do I have the honour of your visit? Surely you were not worried on that account."

Lady Catherine nodded, "I've come to warn you. I think she will use her arts and allurements to draw you in. I asked her to promise never to enter into an engagement with you, and she steadfastly refused to promise me that."

Darcy felt his heart trying to leap out of his chest. She had refused to promise never to enter an engagement with him! He was convinced that if Lady Catherine had asked her for such a promise immediately after his proposal in Hunsford, she would have been pleased with the reply. No doubt Elizabeth would have been most honest about her refusal of him and would have had no scruple detailing all her objections (and indeed, why should she had felt any scruple considering his behaviour to her at the time, and considering his aunt's behaviour? She had every right to be most eloquent in her refusal). Darcy felt hope as he had rarely ever felt before. He needed to go back to Hertfordshire and find out if her feelings had changed.

 **The end**


End file.
